Ragnarok
by Ell Roche
Summary: Ragnarok is what the Norse call the end of the world. Sirius Potter's death is the end of Haven Potter's world.


Title: Ragnarok

Pairing: Sirius Black/Girl!Harry Potter

Warnings: AU-OotP, age disparity (45/15), major canon character death, serious angst, sensuality, violence, war, and dark themes.

Credit: The poem used is titled "Deity" and is the sole intellectual property of 'Neellok'. Used with her full and knowing permission.

Note: This is sort of a repost. Details are in my profile.

* * *

I wish you were my Deity,  
My one true love,  
But the chains of Glipnir  
Won't release me from  
My Prison.

* * *

Haven Potter sighed and leaned back against Sirius's chest on the couch in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place. She had been staying there for just over a week, and she had already returned from that horrid hearing at the Ministry. She wasn't unaware of the fact that she had been tried unfairly. She also wasn't unaware of the fact that the coming year at Hogwarts was likely going to be worse than the year before, which she had foolishly believed to be impossible.

She sighed once again and relaxed back against Sirius. She always felt safe when she was in her godfather's arms. Haven felt loved and sheltered, and she never wanted to leave them—never wanted to leave Sirius.

It was wrong, or so society told her. It wasn't right that she craved Sirius's touch. It wasn't proper to fantasize about her godfather, or to imagine them kissing softly. It was improper to enjoy the heat that was seeping into the muscles of her back. She wasn't supposed to crave the feel of those callused fingers carding through her hair—yet, she did.

In a way she couldn't put into words, Haven knew that she belonged to Sirius, just as she felt Sirius belonged to her.

There was a tangible well of emotion between them that they never discussed. It was a desperate need to be around each other, and an intense fear that they would be pulled apart, forbidden to see each other. This was the primary reason why Haven hated the Dursleys; when she was staying with them she was unable to be with Sirius, and that was unacceptable.

They guarded their emotions selfishly, only bestowing them upon those few who were considered worthy. Yet, the majority of their emotions were reserved solely for each other, and no one else would be able to break into the world that they had created. They were exclusive, emotionally, in a way that not many others would be able to understand. They were each other's world, and they zealously held that knowledge to their hearts, refusing to think of proprieties and common opinions.

Yet, with others around they were chained, bound to the rules of society, and so they were unable to explore these feelings of love and possessiveness.

Sirius was locked away in Grimmauld Place, hiding from the Aurors who would kill him on sight, unaware and uncaring of his innocence. He was trapped within his own house, bound to the place that was overflowing with painful memories and hate-filled words. The shadows of the past were louder in this house, and he hated it.

This place was filthy, tainted—Haven deserved better than to be trapped somewhere like this.

And Haven, well, she was trapped by a destiny she was unaware of. She was locked in a battle for her life against one of the most powerful Dark Lords to have ever lived.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief when she heard the last few people in the house head up the stairs to bed. She liked this time of day best. The time when she got to sit with Sirius, wrapped protectively in those loving arms, knowing that she was wanted and no one would be able to harm her.

She turned her head to the side and pressed it against Sirius's chest. The repetitive sound of a beating heart forced the last bit of tension from her muscles. The nightmares had been getting worse lately. Haven kept seeing Sirius die over and over again. She wouldn't allow that to happen, not to them. Her arms tightened reflexively, and Sirius began stroking her hair more firmly.

"Dumbledore doesn't think you should know," Sirius said. Those few words broke the peaceful atmosphere, and Haven knew that whatever Sirius had to say next would greatly impact her life. "There's a prophecy; it's the reason your parents were killed."

"What does it say?" she asked. The now somber atmosphere was hanging heavily in the room.

"You're the only one who can kill Voldemort, and if you fail, he'll kill you," Sirius whispered. His arms tightened as the words left his lips, and he leaned down and buried his face in Haven's shoulder. They both breathed deeply, taking comfort in each other's scent as the words echoed. "Promise me that you won't leave me!" Sirius demanded fiercely.

Haven smiled as the true meaning of the words touched her. "I won't die on you, Siri."

"Promise me, Haven." Sirius was staring directly into her eyes. The gray depths shone with fear, desperation, and love.

Haven felt her love for Sirius swelling inside her chest and she knew the moment it appeared in her eyes, because Sirius's breath caught in his throat. "I promise that I won't leave you, Siri. Not ever." Haven didn't allow any doubt to cloud her determination; she meant every word. She loved Sirius, and nothing was going to tear them apart—she would never allow it.

Haven shifted so that her chest was pressed against Sirius's, and she stared into those love-filled eyes with determination.

In her short life, she had been trapped in many places and situations: the Dursleys, Hogwarts, the Chamber, the Tournament, the graveyard, and so many more. She hated being bound to something because it never gave her a choice. She had to live with the Dursleys; to escape them she had to attend Hogwarts. To stay at Hogwarts and away from the Dursleys, she had been forced into the other situations.

Haven slowly leaned forward and very gently brushed her lips against Sirius's, willingly giving her first kiss to her godfather.

For the first time in her life, she was chained and pleased with the situation. She was chained to Sirius by the bonds of unconditional love, and she would never let anything break them. Haven leaned back in for another kiss, allowing Sirius's more experienced tongue to gently probe her mouth. The tender touches just strengthened her resolve, and those chains became even tighter. From this one thing, she never wanted freedom.

* * *

Is this what  
The Three Fates decreed?  
You smile in silent joy,  
As you turn from me  
And fly into Valhalla,  
A safe haven  
For your soul.

* * *

_Sirius had been captured. Sirius had been captured_. That one thought kept replaying in her mind, and she couldn't stop the sheer despair from welling up inside of her. Yet, right alongside the mind-numbing despair, burning in the corners of her soul was an all-encompassing hatred. If Sirius had been harmed, she knew she wouldn't be able to control her magic.

Sirius was hers, and she was Sirius's.

Her magic crackled angrily as she flew on the back of a Thestral through the night sky. Several others were with her, and she couldn't help resenting their presence the smallest bit. If Sirius had been harmed, it was her fault, and thus her duty to save her godfather (and husband)—the man she loved with all her heart. She could feel her magic spreading out, clashing with the sky, and leaving a fierce storm in their wake. The clouds poured rain onto those below, the wind howled fiercely, and the thunder was almost deafening as it matched her rage. The lightning was as bright as her eyes, sparking with anger, worry, and hatred.

"I'm coming, Siri," she whispered. "Hang on, I'm coming."

When they landed, she followed them into the telephone booth mindlessly; she was too focused on worrying about Sirius to care about getting there. Hermione would take care of that—it was one of the reasons Haven had relented and allowed them to come with her. Saving Sirius was important, but doing it quickly and efficiently was more important, regardless of her prideful need to save her godfather and husband herself.

She felt the telephone booth sinking lower and smiled briefly at her friend. Hermione was helping her save Sirius, regardless that it might be a trap, and that deserved a small sign of gratitude on her part.

They stalked through the silent Atrium and headed immediately over to a set of lifts, clambering into one and heading down to the Department of Mysteries. She remembered the black hallways from the hearing, from her dreams—nightmares—and hated it. To her, it was one more prison her godfather had been unable to escape.

The rage inside her grew and her magic lashed out, slowing the lift to a halt. Haven quickly drew a deep breath and reined her magic back in, refusing to allow her loss of control to hinder her plans to rescue Sirius. No, if Sirius had been captured it was her fault; she wouldn't be the cause of delay in getting her godfather away from those monsters that were torturing him.

When the lift stopped they stepped out onto the black marble floor, and Haven sneered at it. It was black, like Sirius's last name—a name he had forsaken for hers. A name, a color, something that constantly stalked Sirius and destroyed his life, taking away his happiness and any love that he might have been gifted with in his childhood.

The Black family name—the Black family itself, he had been trapped, barely managing to escape from them for a few years. Then he had been locked in Azkaban Prison, a black and dreary place, with the Dementors—also black—feeding away at him, devouring his happiness and leaving him rotting in the dark memories that slowly tried to taint his soul black. Then, after finally gaining freedom, he had been bound to the Black family house, and it had almost destroyed him.

His Animagus form was a Grim for a reason. Sirius had seen an unordinary amount of pain and suffering in life, and he had come to see it in shades of gray and black, unbelieving that the light would ever shine on him and his life.

With every step Haven took, she ground her shoes into the black stone, wishing she could damage it. How dare the black continue to haunt Sirius when Haven was finally starting to heal him? How dare it darken such a pure and loving soul? She wouldn't let that happen, couldn't let that happen. Sirius was hers, and Potters were eternally dedicated to the person who won their heart.

She marched down the rows, searching frantically for the one that was supposed to hold Sirius. She glanced around and her eyes settled on a glass orb that bore her name. This was it, this was the prophecy that she was chained to that Sirius had told her about. Haven reached forward and grasped the orb, pulling it from the shelf.

When Haven was descended upon by Death Eaters moments later, she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. If they had really had Sirius, they would have been flaunting his tortured body. They would have forced Haven to look into those tormented and pained eyes. But they weren't, so that meant this was all a trap.

She nodded sharply to herself. A trap she could deal with, could accept, because that meant that Sirius was safe, her Sirius was safe, and that was all she wanted and all she cared about.

Haven turned and ran, and her friends quickly followed her. They got separated and they were dueling. The curses were flying and she could feel her magic draining with every spell she cast. None of that mattered though, because Sirius was safe, and she knew she wouldn't die by anyone's hand but Voldemort's.

She was safe. He was safe. They were safe.

Then she felt magic welling in the air, and suddenly, several members of the Order were there. Haven's breath caught in her throat when she saw Sirius. "No!" She had led Sirius right to them. She had come, knowing it might be a trap, and instead of avoiding one, she had led Sirius right into one. Haven gritted her teeth savagely and began throwing curses more earnestly. Nothing would happen to Sirius; she refused to allow any such thoughts to enter her mind. Sirius would not be harmed because of her.

There was a cry of shock, and she turned to see a spell slam into Sirius. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she raced forward. "Sirius!" His name was filled with so much pain, so much agony, such love, that it was almost unbearable to hear.

Haven sprinted forward as quickly as she could, and was still too late. She watched helplessly as Sirius tumbled back through a black veil and vanished. She struggled mightily against the arms that held her to no avail. She couldn't escape the strong grasp, couldn't break free and join her husband, her godfather, Sirius.

Her eyes became blank as they were overcome by devastation. Black had won again, her godfather had lost again, and Haven refused to accept that.

Her head snapped to the side and a slightly crazed look glossed her eyes as she watched Bellatrix Lestrange fleeing.

She tightened her hold on her wand. She wanted revenge.

* * *

No deed would I not commit,  
No vow would I not make,  
With Hel,  
To bring you back.  
My only sin was  
Letting you go.  
Those thoughts, like Thor,  
Thunder through my mind  
In agony.

* * *

Haven lost all control of her magic as she chased Bellatrix Lestrange up through the Ministry of Magic. Bellatrix had taken Sirius from her. Deep inside, where not even the most skilled of Legilimens could see, her mind, her heart, her very soul was screaming in agony. She was writhing in pain and weeping tears that would never end. Their marriage bond was shredded in her mind, taunting her with the truth.

Sirius was gone. She had lost Sirius.

Haven allowed the rage and hatred to flood her mind and take control. It didn't matter now—none of it mattered. Sirius was gone. She was alone again; she had lost the only person who had ever loved her and that she had ever loved.

She chased after Bellatrix, refusing to allow Bellatrix to escape her unpunished. There would be no forgiveness for this—no redemption. She would only be mildly appeased by one thing, Bellatrix's death. It would not stop the pain, it wouldn't bring Sirius back, but it would make her inadequacy lessen. It would help assuage the guilt that was choking her. Haven knew it was her fault, no matter that she hadn't cast the curse. Yes, this was her fault, and she would never forgive herself.

It was ironic and saddening that it was nearly identical to a chase that had taken place over a decade ago. Sirius had chased after Peter Pettigrew in his rage, and now Haven was doing the same. They matched each other so perfectly, filled the cracks in each other's hearts, and now those wounds that had been mending were torn open and bloody once more. The sutures that had been healing them had been viciously torn out, taking pieces of her heart with them, and she knew she would never recover.

They had just gotten to the Atrium when Haven finally caught up with her. Now, she would take her revenge. "_Crucio!_" she snarled. The word poured from her lips easily, as the hate overflowed and spilled down her wand. She stood there and watched Bellatrix spasm, listened to her screams.

Bellatrix had taken Sirius from her.

Hatred poured from her wand.

She would never see that smiling face again.

Bellatrix's lips were convulsing from the force of her screams.

She would never get to run her hands through silky hair in the morning.

Bellatrix's body jerked erratically as her nerves were forcefully brought to life in the most painful way.

Haven would never get to feel the warmth of Sirius at her back as her husband carefully held her, open palm cradling their growing child. Because there would be no children!

Malice dripped from her, tainting her magic. It streamed down her arm and slammed into Bellatrix Lestrange. Nothing else in the world would have been able to get this reaction from her. Not Draco Malfoy and his petty comments, not Marge Dursley and her disparagements of Haven's parents, not Severus Snape and the cruel words about her father—nothing.

Sirius had meant everything to her, still meant everything to her . . . would always be everything to her.

And this—this witch had taken Sirius away from her.

The agony finally overpowered the anger, and the magic changed again: the sharp pain of before was now replaced by an all-encompassing despair. Her magic ate away at Bellatrix, devouring her like a Dementor would with helplessness, hopelessness, and numbness. Her screams were replaced by whimpers, a quiet pleading, and Haven listened to it unemotionally.

Barty Crouch Jr. had taught her well in fourth year. To cast an Unforgivable, you truly had to mean it. Haven meant it.

One of the fireplaces flared, and she raised her eyes from the whimpering woman to see Lord Voldemort appear. Haven saw the shock briefly register in Voldemort's eyes before a calculating look washed over him.

"Potter," Voldemort said neutrally.

"She's one of your favorites," Haven said. She gestured with her free hand down to the still twitching body. Bellatrix's wand had fallen from her hand and rolled across the floor when Haven had first cursed her. She pulled her wand down sharply, canceling the spell.

"Yes," Voldemort agreed, visibly curious about Haven's actions. He had just seen the precious Girl Who Lived using an Unforgivable.

"Good." Haven lifted her wand and pointed it at Bellatrix. "_Avada Kedavra_." The green light shot forward and crashed into her body, relieving her of the pain she had been forced to endure at the end of Haven's wand.

The calculating look in Voldemort's eyes became fiercer. Her magic was pooling around her like a cloak of darkness, it stank of death, though not as greatly as Voldemort's magic did. "Join me." The two words were an offer, a command, and a request, all in one.

The malice that had slowly been draining away shot into the forefront of her mind once again. "She took away my most precious person." The silence in the air seemed unnatural, but Haven knew Voldemort was still waiting for an answer. "She was a favorite of yours." Voldemort nodded once. "But not your _favorite_."

"No, she wasn't my favorite," he replied.

Haven grinned maliciously. "Ah, but you're her most precious person. She took from me—now I'll take from her." Her wand was raised with a snap of her wrist and she sent a barrage of spells at Voldemort, one after the other.

She would repay Bellatrix in kind, no matter how long it took.

* * *

I know that Heimdall,  
God of the Dawn,  
Can shed no light  
In my darkened world.  
The sun has been  
Swallowed by Hati,  
And the moon  
Engulfed by Skoll.

* * *

Voldemort retaliated, snapping spells back at Haven one after the other. They continued in this vein for several minutes, and both of their spells became increasingly darker in nature as time passed. They were both bleeding in several places, and the hatred that Haven was feeling continued to taint her magic, making it darker.

Voldemort dodged a spell that would have turned his skin inside out and eyed Haven appreciatively. "Where'd you learn such a dark spell, Potter?" he asked.

Haven sneered and avoided a Disemboweling Hex. "My godfather was Sirius Black."

"Was?" Voldemort inquired, noting the past tense of the word.

Haven felt the sorrow well up and join with the hatred, giving her new strength. "_She killed him_," Haven hissed in Parseltongue.

The curses and hexes continued to fly back and forth between the two opponents, each skillfully avoiding the ones thrown at them.

Haven could feel her magic slipping. She had been emotionally distraught and unbalanced all evening, and the death of her husband had only made it worse. Bellatrix had turned her from a nuisance into a fierce opponent, and a potentially very dangerous enemy. Her magic wavered for just a moment, and that was the opening Voldemort needed.

Voldemort dove forward and possessed Haven's mind, trying to force her to submit to his will and join him. "You will join me!" he commanded.

"I won't," Haven spat, hating that she could hear his thoughts and sense him so intimately.

Voldemort began searching through her memories, hurriedly looking for something that he could use to get her on his side. There had to be something in here that would convince her. The neglect she suffered at the Dursleys' hands was pushed aside; he had tried that before. What was this? He viewed the memory of his diary, and though he was enraged that she had destroyed it, he was pleased to note that his younger self had also noticed the similarities between them.

"Get out!" Haven snapped. She was frantically trying to focus her magic to get Voldemort out of her mind. Why hadn't Snape taught her how to perform Occlumency instead of randomly attacking her mind?

That question cause a new flood of anger and hatred to soar through her body. If Snape had actually tried to teach her, then her mind would have been inaccessible. Then she wouldn't have seen that false vision and, as such, wouldn't have been lured here, resulting in Sirius's death.

Haven took those feelings of loathing and she focused them, and then she aimed them at her scar and let them loose. There was a moment of brief agony, and then she felt the link between the scar and Voldemort snap.

Voldemort growled as he felt that link break, but continued to pour through her memories. He saw part of a house he assumed was a Black property, as Sirius Black was in the memory, and Potter was leaning against his side. The room's walls were covered in shelves of books and he rightfully assumed that this was where Haven had secretly learned the curses she had used in the previous fight. After Sirius had told her about the prophecy, Haven had vowed to herself that she would protect her godfather. She had snuck into the library at all hours of the day and night when it was vacant, reading up on obscure and dangerous spells that she thought might come in useful.

"Don't look at them!" Haven's voice was full of rage as Voldemort began sorting through her memories of Sirius, looking for something that would sway her over to the darkness.

"Stop fighting me, Potter!" Voldemort ordered as he searched more frantically.

"Fight him, Haven," Dumbledore's voice said, barely piercing the dark shroud Voldemort had cast over her mind.

The emotions kept slamming through Haven's body. Today was too much; it couldn't have happened, shouldn't have happened, but she knew it had. She had learned a long time ago that denying the truth only brought more pain and suffering. It was inevitable that she would be forced to face the truth, but having Voldemort pull forth all the memories of her being safely together with Sirius was more than her bleeding heart could take.

Then Voldemort found the happiest memory of her life, the memory she had wanted to keep imprinted in her mind for all time. But now, at this moment, it brought nothing more than agony and the worst sort of pain.

Haven's magic rebelled and exploded outward, banishing Voldemort from her mind and body. Her hazy eyes saw a volley of lights that indicated the battle between Voldemort and Dumbledore, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I love you," Sirius whispered as he held Haven in his arms.

Tears finally escaped and slid down her face to splash on the floor.

She would never get to hear those words again. Love had never hurt this much.

* * *

I sit in the darkness,  
No mystic candles  
By my side.  
I hold your cold body  
To mine, and pray to  
Odin to keep you safe.

* * *

Haven stared up at the ceiling above her hospital bed with unseeing eyes. She felt numb. This was reality, her new reality, and Sirius wasn't a part of it. She ignored the voices that were calling for her. Not one of them belonged to Sirius. They might have been friends, acquaintances, but they weren't Sirius. She didn't want to answer; she didn't want to acknowledge the truth, not yet. She knew that she would have no choice but to acknowledge it soon, but she didn't have to, not yet.

She was scared, terrified of the emptiness and apathy that was slowly taking her over.

She knew it was cowardly to lie still like this and pretend for just a few more hours that her reality hadn't changed, and that Sirius would be waiting at Grimmauld Place for her over the summer. However, that would never happen again.

Unbidden, the memory Voldemort had jarred free of its bindings the night before rushed to the front of her mind, and she drowned herself in it.

* * *

It was Yule, and the castle was practically empty. The students had all rushed home to their families, and Haven had been disappointed and very angry when she had been told that she would have to remain at Hogwarts for the holiday. She had wanted to see Sirius more than anything. She fingered the letter in her pocket once again, as she softly walked through the deserted hallways.

Curfew was later during the holiday, but it was well past that now. Not that Haven cared. She was headed down to the Shrieking Shack, where Sirius had promised to meet her tonight, and she wasn't going to let anyone stop her from going. She kept a firm hold on the invisibility cloak as she headed out the entrance doors.

The biting wind tore into her, making her shiver fiercely as she plowed her way through the snow. It came up higher than the top of her boots, and her pants were getting more wet by the moment. She continued onward determinedly. She wouldn't let Sirius down for any reason; she wanted to see Sirius just as much as she was sure Sirius wanted to see her.

Haven fingered the letter once more as she approached the Whomping Willow, and then grabbed her wand, being careful to keep as much of her arm hidden as possible as she immobilized the tree. She waded forward and then knelt down, crawling into the tunnel that would lead her to her destination. Once she got inside it, she paused for a moment, removed the cloak, placed it safely in her pocket, and then continued onward. The tunnel was dusty; it hadn't been used since the night she had first met Sirius back when she was a third-year.

She scrabbled forward and grinned when she reached the end of the tunnel. Haven stood up and glanced around curiously. The shack itself had been cleaned vigorously, and she smiled when she thought of the care that Sirius always showed for her. Her godfather never wanted Haven to be in a place he deemed 'filthy'.

"Sirius!" she called softly.

There was a somewhat loud sound and then Sirius came around the corner with a beautiful grin on his face. "Haven!" he replied as he pulled her into a tight hug. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Haven assured him. She snuggled closer and inhaled deeply, letting Sirius's scent wash over her. She felt safe and loved, just as she always did when she was in her godfather's embrace.

Haven shivered suddenly. Sirius stepped back, eyeing her from top to bottom. "Your clothes are soaked; you need to take them off before you catch a cold."

Haven blushed at the words, but followed Sirius deeper into the shack and around to a room that had a roaring fireplace. Haven grabbed her robes and tugged them off, dropping them on the floor. Haven shimmied, unbuttoned her trousers, and then dropped them on the floor as well after kicking off her shoes and socks. She curled her toes in the carpet before the fireplace and glanced up at Sirius in nothing but her knickers and a long button-down shirt.

"Haven . . ." Sirius's voice seemed to have caught in his throat, because he didn't say anything else.

Haven gazed up at her godfather and saw the love and desire in the gray eyes that only watched her. She felt powerful under their gaze, and slowly stalked forward, rolling her hips from side to side with every step that she took. She grinned when she saw the passion flare on Sirius's face, and she knew what the man she loved would like to do tonight—marry her.

Was she ready for that?

Yes, she was, she decided as she continued to gaze into those love-filled eyes. She was ready to be with Sirius completely. She knew that she would be loved, protected, and that Sirius wouldn't harm her.

Sirius stepped forward and pulled Haven to him, possessively claiming her lips with ardent passion. They had shared kisses over the summer, but never to this extent. There would be no stopping tonight. No, this was the night that they would surrender to their love, and each other. The night that they would join as one for the first time.

Haven trembled as those skilled hands stroked over her back, warming her up and banishing the remnants of the cold snow from her body. She pressed against her godfather as they kissed, spilling their love into each other's mouths. Society wasn't here to stop them. No one was here to tell them that this was wrong, and even if someone had been, they wouldn't have listened. To them, nothing had ever been this right.

After years of pain and suffering, they were finally one, whole. With every kiss, their torn hearts were sutured back together.

"I love you," Sirius whispered. His eyes were shining fiercely when he said it, and Haven captured that one moment, did everything she possibly could to forever imprint it in her memory, never wanting to forget how Sirius said it, meant it, and felt it. The answering sentiment rose up from the depths of her soul, proving the love they felt for each other.

"I love you, too." Haven never wanted to forget the look of rapturous joy that appeared on Sirius's face as she spoke. That was all the proof she would ever need that this wasn't wrong, no matter what people might say. That one act had proven it—this was love.

* * *

Haven wrenched herself away from the memory, uncaring of the tears that dripped down to stain the white pillowcase. That wasn't her reality, not anymore. This was her reality. She wouldn't ever get another kiss. She wouldn't ever receive another hug that she felt she could lose herself safely in. She would never again be able to fall asleep in someone's arms.

She'd had one night with the only person she would ever love. She had felt that aching fullness once, and now she would never feel it again.

Sirius had been her first, and Sirius would be her only, her last.

* * *

You were my world,  
My one true treasure.  
Now you have  
Driven me into  
Ragnarok.

* * *

Haven stared down at Voldemort's body. He was dead; he was finally dead, and Haven had succeeded. She didn't allow the pain of her wounds to register, because none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered at the moment was the sure, unchangeable fact that Voldemort was finally dead.

"Two years," she whispered as everyone around her cheered. It had taken her two years, and she had suffered every moment of it.

Ron and Hermione surely deserved a reward for having tolerated her presence the last two years. They had been endlessly patient, no matter how much she avoided them. They had been kind, no matter how much she rebuffed them. They had helped make all of this possible, and they deserved something that she knew she would never be able to repay. Hopefully the rewards the Ministry would offer for their assistance would be enough.

She turned and walked away from the remnants of the battle. With every step she took, she dodged around people who sought to shake her hand and pat her on the back. She didn't want congratulations! Couldn't they see that? She didn't want to be here! Couldn't they tell that?

Haven quickly altered her path when she saw that Lee Jordan was approaching from the other direction. She had no desire to speak with him. She could barely tolerate his presence. It wasn't that he was a bad person; on the contrary, he was a nice wizard. However, he had made an unforgivable mistake when he had asked Haven on a date to Hogsmeade.

He hadn't known, as there was no way he could have known. Yet, she had been utterly livid that he had thought he could take Sirius's place in her life and heart. It was an unreasonable conclusion to reach, especially since he hadn't known about Sirius, but she had still been angry with him all the same, and that anger hadn't diminished at all over the past year.

When Haven had turned and stalked away from him without answering, he had apparently reached the conclusion that she had done it to protect him, and Haven hadn't done anything to disabuse him of that notion. She hadn't cared to. If thinking that would keep him away from her, then she would let him think whatever he wanted to assume.

Regardless, Sirius was the only one for her, and nobody was going to change that.

Haven waded through the crowd, ignoring the healing spells that several people were randomly casting at her. She felt the cuts sealing up as she continued forward, though it didn't matter, not to her. She only had one thing left to do, and she could do it in her present condition.

She had been told that time healed all wounds and that the pain would go away. They were wrong, they didn't understand, and they had no right to know. Her feelings were just that, _hers_. They were personal, sacred, and she wasn't going to discuss the love she felt for Sirius with anyone. Even Luna had been denied—though if she had been willing to tell anyone, it would have been her.

That day in the hospital had been bad, yes, but the days after that had gotten increasingly worse. With every day came a new chance to think, to remember, to speculate. The pain had intensified every day as she imagined what might have been. Would they have survived the war if Haven hadn't gone that day? Would they have revealed their marriage to the world? Would she have gotten pregnant if they hadn't used a contraceptive spell that night? Would she have a son with his eyes and her hair?

Her eyes shone with sadness as she continued to evade the people she had no desire to speak with, not that she wanted to speak with anyone.

Haven had spent an entire summer drowning in her memories, replaying them over and over in her mind until she could almost believe that they were happening as she viewed them. The memories always came to an end, and the tears would fall faster and harder every single day. She was grief-stricken and nothing would heal the wound that had been torn in her heart. The only healing balm had been taken away from her. Her heart sat in her chest, bleeding, dying, and nothing had been able to fix it. She hadn't allowed anything to fix it.

That part of her heart belonged to Sirius, and no one else would ever reside there.

Haven finally made it outside and bypassed the wards that surrounded Hogwarts. She turned on her heel and Disapparated, much to the horror and disbelief of her friends, and all others who wanted to fawn over her. Her boots rang loudly with every step as she walked across the stone floor and headed to her destination.

She had become somewhat adept at pretending she was well and that everything was fine. She wasn't sure if they really believed her, or fooled themselves into believing her, but neither mattered. She had waited two years for this day and she refused to wait any longer. The tears dripping down her face weren't tears of agony and suffering. No, for the first time in years Haven Potter was crying tears filled with hope.

Haven walked down the black stone hallway, following the path she had memorized what felt like a decade ago. The task that she had been unable to leave behind had been overcome, and was now gone, no longer holding even the smallest bit of importance. She had kept her vow to Sirius; she had lived. She had kept the vow to Voldemort; she had repaid Bellatrix in kind.

Drops of blood fell to mix with the tears, leaving a trail for anyone curious and daring enough to follow.

She could feel the chains tightening around her, nearly suffocating her with their strength. They grasped her more firmly with every step she took. She may have freed herself from most prisons, but she was chained to Sirius by the bonds of unconditional love, and she would never let anything break them.

Those chains were made up of links, and every link was a memory, a moment in time when they had been together: their first kiss, the first time they made love, a comforting hug, a cup of hot cocoa after a nightmare, late night reading by the fireplace, snuggling on a rainy day, the first time they confessed their love aloud. These memories, these chains, were unbreakable, and Haven would kill anyone who was foolish enough to try and break them.

She entered the room and stared up at the veiled archway. Her gaze pierced the swaying black fabric as she continued forward relentlessly. Nothing was going to stop her.

Her heart was bleeding, and only Sirius could suture it back together.


End file.
